Haunted Understandings
by markolatte
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are hunters. They are good hunters. In fact, they're a little too good. If it's not human, it dies. Simple. But when they take a trip to the most haunted town in America, they discover that things aren't that simple. They never are.
1. Well, This is News

**Hi! Markolatte here. So… I'm getting into Supernatural (and it's becoming a problem *cough*) and I couldn't stop thinking about what a great crossover it would make. I looked in the archives for this… and apparently only 33 other writers agreed with me.  
****Gr.  
****Needless to say, I wasn't satisfied with this, and I felt the need to contribute. Don't own anything. Enjoy the show!**

**_Summary:_**** Sam and Dean Winchester are hunters. They're good hunters. In fact, they're a little too good. If it's not human, it dies. Simple. But when they take a trip to the most haunted town in America, they discover that things aren't that simple. They never are. **

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**_Haunted Understandings _**

**_By: markolatte_**

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It was about eight o'clock at night when Sam and Dean stumbled back into their oddly nice motel. The two had spent the last several hours beating the shit out of a nest of vampires and saving a few hostages. Saving people, hunting things... it's the family business.

Dean collapsed on the rickety pullout couch with a grunt as the thing squeaked and bent slightly under his weight. He grabbed the remote from the arm of the couch and turned on the small T.V. that sat atop the dresser nearby.

"Interested in the weather?" Asked Sam, sitting on the edge of one of the two beds with a glass of water in hand.

"Sure." Said Dean absently. In truth, he wasn't actually watching television. He had only turned it on for the background noise.

He threw Sam the remote.

Sam chuckled, a finger hovering over the 'guide' button, before something mildly interesting appeared on the news.

A burnet anchorman spoke, causing Sam to put down the remote. "And now with Kaya Stevens," he said, "with some very _interesting_ news from the town of Amity Park, Illinois."

The screen cut to a dark-skinned woman with short curly hair and wide eyes. She was standing indoors, maybe in an office building or in a store, next to a rather large window with a magnificent street view.

"I have to say, Phil," she said with a smile, "This has to have been one of the most interesting trips I have ever taken. I have been here for three days, and I have _already _seen at least eight attacks." There was a laugh from behind the camera, probably the store owner or the department manager. Dean shot upright from his reclining place on the couch. Attacks?

Thinking the same thing, Sam turned up the volume.

"I was definitely a skeptic before coming here," she continued, "But now… I'm anything but!" She took a pause, before finishing her thought. "No wonder Amity Park is the most haunted town in America!"

"Holy—what now?" Dean sputtered, now sitting rod-straight on the couch. Sam's glass was midway to his mouth before he froze, not so much as making a sound.

There was a crashing sound coming from somewhere outside the building and Kaya's eyes widened. "There's another one now!" She turned around and peered out the large window and gestured for the camera to follow.

The vantage point of the camera was a bit of a drawback, as the Winchesters couldn't make out much of the areal battle going on overhead, but it was enough to decipher what was happening.

And that was enough to make the brothers' blood run cold.

There were two small, fuzzy figures in the sky. One was a small black speck and the other was a larger, lighter-colored blob. They appeared humanoid, and they were putting on quite the light show.

"This is a ghost fight," said Kaya from off-screen. "It is a surprisingly normal occurrence in this paranormal town."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "Ghost fight?" Was their simultaneous remark.

Suddenly, the big, lighter blob-of-a-ghost was thrown into the streets with a loud _bang! _and a flash of light, making everyone jump, including the two brothers. In fact, Dean nearly fell off the couch and Sam choked on his water. Although, the two would never admit to doing _that. _

"Oh!" Kaya yelped in excitement, "That big one is Skulker… right?" There was an affirmative grunt from somewhere off-screen. The camera zoomed in on this "Skulker," and Sam and Dean's eyes widened even further (which would have been previously assumed as anatomically impossible, but given the situation, "impossible" was a made-up word with a made-up meaning).

The so-called "ghost" was very large. In fact, his size put Sam's massive height to shame. He seemed completely robotic, with large, budging metallic muscles, an arsenal of weapons strapped to his back and sprouting from his arms, and a flaming green Mohawk that whipped back and forth with rage.

He rose out of the crater that he had created in the cement with a deadly growl that wasn't missed by the cameraman's audio crew. The creature then _flew _out of the crater to resume the fight overhead.

The camera zoomed out, and Kaya's cheeky face filled the screen. "Well folks, there you have it! A taste of life in Amity Park, _the _most haunted city in all of America and quite possibly, the world!"

Sam clicked the power-button on the remote, and the screen went black.

The brothers shared a strangely level look as a silent conversation passed between them. Then, without another word, the two packed their stuff, loaded it in the Chevy Impala, and zoomed out of the small town, heading towards the most haunted town in America.

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**I realize this is short. This was a pilot, so chapters will get longer. I always aim for 2,000+ words. I'm just putting this here to see if I should even bother writing more on it. (Might not update until a few chapters are already written... I haven't pre-written this one like I usually do for the first three-or-so chapters.)  
Catch ya on the flip side~  
~Marko **


	2. Welcome to Amity Park

**Okay, I'm back. Hi, how'ya doin'? So, I should probably fill you in on a few minor UA's in this fic (universe alterations… saw it on tumblr and now I'm using it). This story has several headcanons of mine (and others') in it. So, though I've seen the entire DP series at least seven times over (so I know what I'm talking about), some things probably won't look familiar to you. Hopefully you'll understand the headcanons anyway. If not, drop a review or a p.m. and I'll answer any questions. Anyway, the timeline should reveal itself (If it doesn't, it doesn't matter. The timeline in this doesn't ****_really _****matter, unlike in some of my other stories [Although it's season 1 of Spn, because that's all I've watched]). I own nothing and enjoy the show! **

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**_Haunted Understandings _**

**By: ****_markolatte _**

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Sam and Dean had driven for hours, across countless highways and through who-even-knew how many states. All the while, Sam sat in the passenger seat, combing through the Internet for unbiased articles on Amity Park.

Unbiased articles. Who knew they'd be so hard to find? In the end, he came up with only one seemingly factual article from an anonymous source. Although he was a little suspicious about the fact that the author of said article was unknown, (you may call it paranoia, but Sam calls it _experience_), he really had no choice but to trust it. After all, it was the only article that _wasn't _going on and on about these so-called "ghosts" and how terrible they were. All Sam wanted to know were the cold-hard facts.

"So, Amity Park," he began, drawing Dean's attention away from the Metallica blasting through the car's speakers. "It supposedly has been around for a _long _time… like, since the 1600s. It one of the towns that took part in the witch hunting ceremonies in the 1690s."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Think that has anything to do with the hauntings _now? _Maybe those pissed spirits are back for revenge."

Sam shook his head, "If that were it, then those spirits would have taken their revenge decades ago. The spike in paranormal activity began about a year and a half ago, according to this."

"Big-shot serial killer with scary under-the-radar skills?"

"I thought of that," Sam stated. "But there haven't been any recent deaths in the town at all… other than natural causes and all that. But still… no killings, no mysterious accidents, and really, no reasons for any malevolent paranormal activity at all."

Dean pondered this. "Think they're natural portals?" He finally asked. "Those pop up every once in a while… Let a few spirits out of purgatory, then _poof, _they're gone."

"Thought of that too," Sam said, putting a finger on his chin as he thought. "If they were natural portals, why are they all appearing in one spot, _now_?"

"Are you saying something's causing this?" Dean glanced at his brother with a single raised eyebrow.

"Not some_thing,_" Said Sam. "Some_one."_

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By the time the two rolled into Amity Park, it was about one o'clock the next day. They had been driving non-stop since 8:30 last night. To say they were tired was an understatement. Well, Dean was, anyway. Sam was fine. In fact, Dean had to wake his brother up and inform the "Sleeping Beauty" that they were here.

Sam groaned and blinked a few times before he sat up. "We here?" He asked groggily.

"Yup," Dean said, pointing at a passing sign. "'Welcome to Amity Park, a nice place to live!'" He read with a scoff.

"You'd think it'd say 'Turn back now' or 'Beware' or something a little more…"

"Foreboding?"

"Yeah," Sam said with a role of his eyes.

Dean shrugged, "Doesn't 'Amity' mean, like, what? Friendship or peace or some shit?"

"Yeah, ironic."

Dean made a "Pfft" sound as the small town buildings came into view around them. Although the two knew the town had been around for centuries, there certainly weren't many old buildings. In fact, if they didn't know any better, they would have assumed that the town was brand new. There were lots of new buildings, new streets, new _everything. _The brothers didn't see a single thing that wasn't _new. _

"Repairs?" Sam speculated.

"I dunno whether that's a good thing or a bad thing."

Dean glanced around at the passing buildings and streets. Sam chuckled. It wasn't that hard to figure out what, exactly, his brother was looking for. "Y'know," Sam started, "If we stop and ask, someone would probably tell us where to find something to eat."

"We're not married," Dean stated with a weak glare, "and there's no way in hell I'm doing that."

Dean actually ended up impressing his brother, although Sam should have seen it coming. Dean was like a fucking bloodhound when it came to food. In less than five minutes, Dean stopped the Impala in front of a decent-sized diner.

"'_The Nasty Burger_'?" Sam read with a grimace.

Dean shrugged, "Looks popular… plus, it's a food place…"

Sam laughed and, in the end, agreed to go in. _Plus,_ he thought, _it'd be the perfect opportunity to get some info about what the actual fuck is going on in this town. _

The sooner they got the information they needed, the sooner they could leave. Quite frankly, this place was starting to creep Sam out. He didn't know if it was the excessive amounts of paranormal activity here (he could almost _feel _it in the air… like a cold chill or eyes on his back), or if it was how _normal _everyone was acting about it. Either way… This wasn't the place Sam wanted to be.

The restaurant, although obviously new, looked a little like one of those old 70's diners: solid white walls and rounded corners with a retro-looking red trim. From where Sam and Dean were standing just outside the Impala, they could see that it wasn't that packed, though they could tell by the looks of the place that it usually was.

The two pushed through the solid red doors and entered the restaurant, with Dean leading the way.

The inside of the restaurant matched the out almost perfectly. With round silver tables, red patent leather booths, black-and-white checkered floors, and… was that a _jukebox? _Dean hasn't seen one of _those_ in a while. Anyway, the place looked straight out of the past.

But a few things didn't escape Dean's attention. The floors under the reinforced tables were padded, the lights above were built _into _the ceiling, and there were more corners and walls inside the place than there were outside the joint.

The place was practically _built _for attacks. It was littered with hiding places. The padded floors under the tables were probably there to soften the landings of anyone who needed a fast cover from an attack. The extra blind corners equal several new hiding spots. The lights were probably built like that to prevent fires and reduce the amount of falling debris.

How the Winchesters had never heard of this town before was bewildering.

"Welcome to the Nasty Burger!" Said the perky blonde cashier, standing behind the counter. She gave Sam and Dean a once-over before her smile widened. "What can I get you both today?"

"I'll have a number one with a coke," Said Sam before Dean could open his mouth.

The pretty blonde just nodded and typed in the order. "And you?"

"Well," Dean started, leaning over the counter slightly with a familiar gleam in his green eyes. "What do you recommend?"

"The number four is our most popular dish," the cashier, what was her name? Ah, Caroline. Caroline said with a giggle.

"If that's what you think I'll like..." Dean responded with a smirk.

Sam chuckled at his brother's antics. Leave it to Dean to flirt with every pretty girl they saw.

Caroline nodded, smiling as she punched in his order. "Is there anything else I can do for you two?"

Dean spared a glance behind him. Oh, good. There wasn't a line.

"Yes, actually." He said, his smile still in place. Caroline paused.

"It doesn't have anything to do with food," Sam reassured.

"See, we're actually from the college a little ways up from here," Dean stated. "We came down here for a project for our paranormal studies class."

"Paranormal studies?" Caroline raised her eyebrows. "You two certainly came to the right place."

"Well, we were just hoping we could ask you a few questions," Sam said. "There's no one waiting in line, anyway."

Caroline shrugged. "I'm certainly not the best person to ask, but if you really want answers, I'd suggest going to the Fentons."

"The Fentons?"

"Yeah," Caroline said with a small laugh. She glanced around the diner before speaking again, "They're total nut jobs, but they're the closest thing this town has to _actual _scientists."

Sam nodded, "Okay, thanks for your help."

"No problem." There was a ringing sound from the small window that led into the kitchen. Caroline reached back and grabbed the food. "So that's one regular burger with a regular fry and a coke, and one Nasty Special with bacon and cheddar, hold the mustard, with a regular fry and a coke. Does that sound right?" She handed Sam a tray full of fast food.

"That's great, thanks," Said Dean with a wink. Sam lightly elbowed his brother as he took the tray and walked over to a rather secluded booth by the window near the rear of the restaurant.

"So," He started quietly as the two sat down. "The Fentons... Ever heard of them?"

"Yeah, actually," Dean said with a nod as he took a bite of his burger. "Dad mentioned them once or twice a few years back. Said they were insane."

"So we should go talk to these people?"

"I'd avoid it," Said Dean, "Or at least get a second opinion."

Sam nodded, "I guess you're right... There has to be someone else who knows what the hell's going on here."

So, that's what the two did. After their lunch, they set about asking the town's people about ghosts.

"Eh, you'd wan' tha Fentons," Said old man Warner, as he called himself. He was completely bald with a white bread and had all of two teeth. He was a former fisherman, as he told the brothers. Now he was the town's cranky old man and he took great pride in that label. "They crazy, tha' family. The wife's a genius and tha husbands an idiot. They kids tha same wa'."

"They have kids?" Dean asked in bewilderment. From what his dad told him, they were psychotic hunters, scientists, and inventors. Dean didn't think it was _possible _for people in this line of work to have _kids. _

"Yea'," Said Warner, "They smart kids. Or, a' least one a' them is."

So this was one of _those _towns, Sam thought, where everyone knew everything about everybody.

"Thank you for your help," Sam said aloud as he grabbed his brother's arm and left the old man's front porch.

Everyone they asked was the same way. They all said the same things. Everyone they asked suggested the "crazy Fenton family."

"It's like no one knows what's going on," Dean pointed out from the driver's seat of the Impala. "I mean... It's weird. You'd think they'd know more about their own town."

Sam shrugged, "Well, wouldn't be the first time when people were clueless about this stuff."

"I guess we have a trip to make, huh?"

"Yup."

Dean put his baby in drive and the two drove to, what the town's people called "The hardest house to miss on the planet".

* * *

**Okay, so there it is. This wasn't too long, but the next will probably be longer. Earlier, I mentioned ****headcanons. One of them is about the portal. I don't think the Fentons would tell that many people that they have a portal to another world (purgatory, in this story) in their basement. They'd have a lot more than the government on their doorstep. So, I have a feeling that not a lot of people actually know where all the ghosts are coming from. I hope that explains a few things. One more thing... this story is going to be really lax. It's gonna be a "just chill out" story for me. It should be shorter than my other stories and the writing quality (probably) won't be as high.  
Just a warning.  
Reviews are asked for nicely (begged for on knees with huge puppy eyes).  
~marko **


	3. It's Science

**Why hello again! Here's chapter three for you! I don't really have much to say before you read, but be sure to read the bottom notes, because they have some head canons (Well really, _a _headcanon. An important one, though!).  
In case it wasn't obvious, this is before Phantom Planet, as all but one of my stories are. **

**What, do I look like a middle-aged man to you? I don't own anything.**

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_**Haunted Understandings **_

**By: _markolatte_**

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It was about four o'clock that evening when the Winchesters finally arrived at the Fenton's house. Not that it was that hard to find. Let's just say that… when the town's people said it was "The hardest house to miss on the planet," they really weren't kidding.

Sam and Dean openly gaped at the monstrosity of a house from the inside of the car. The place was downright ridiculous. For one, it looked a little more like a three-story _building _than a three-story _house. _It was a tall place, with red bricks, sunken windows, and a faded dark blue-colored door.

That was the remotely normal part.

No, what truly made the house a monstrosity and what really got Dean wondering just how often the HOA people showed up on the Fenton's doorstep were the… _additions. _Sprouting from the roof was a huge… UFO-observatory-thing. Dean couldn't find the right word for it. Satellite dishes were placed haphazardly across the thing and… was that a telephone poll sticking out from the top? Quite frankly, Dean didn't give a shit. He just didn't want the thing to fall on him because it looked like it would if the wind blew too hard.

"I'm guessing we're at the right place," Sam said with a sarcastic smirk, pointing at the _glowing fucking neon sign _that read "FENTON WORKS" in all caps.

"I dunno, I think we may have the wrong house," Dean shrugged.

Sam just laughed as Dean turned off the ignition and the two got out of the car. Dean made to walk to the trunk when Sam grabbed his arm, "We're college students," he muttered, "_not _hunters."

Dean shot his little brother a quick nod and they made their way over to the solid wood door. Reinforced hinges, Dean noted, makes it harder to break down. Smart _and_ stupid.

Sam knocked three times on the door. They only waited a moment before the door swung open and reveled an auburn-haired woman in her mid-forties. What really made her a bit… _odd, _however, was that she was wearing a tight, teal colored body suit of some sort. It was too form fitting for HAZMAT, Sam pondered, but too sturdy for Spandex. It was probably some fireproof, waterproof, damage-resistant, Captain America-type-thing with a black tool belt, boots, gloves and collar. If Sam were permitted a guess, that is.

"Hi," Sam started with a smile, "are you Mrs. Fenton?"

The woman smiled and said in a sort of motherly voice, "Call me Maddie. Can I help you boys with something?"

Sam elbowed Dean before he could make a comment about their house. "Please," Sam stated. "I'm Sam and this is Dean. Can we come in?"

"Of course!" Maddie exclaimed, all too eager to let the strangers into her house. She stepped aside and allowed the two access to her "humble abode."

Dean looked around the inside of the Fenton household in a bit of awe. How could the outside of somewhere be so outrageous while the inside was downright… _normal? _

"This way!" Maddie enthusiastically led them into a normal-looking living room. There was one long couch, a recliner, and a coffee table, all spaced out in the middle of the room. There was a large window behind the couch and a T.V. mounted on one wall.

Maddie sat down in the recliner and gestured for the boys to sit on the couch.

"So," Maddie clapped her hands together, "I'm assuming you're here about ghosts." It wasn't a question.

Sam's eyebrows pushed together in puzzlement. "Yeah… how did you know?"

"Small town," she shrugged, "Word travels fast."

Dean nodded. "Well, we were wondering if you could tell us a little about this ghost problem you have going on in this town. See, we're from the college—"

"—You're looking to hunt some ghosts." Maddie smiled at the two's confused expressions. "It really is not that hard to tell." She shrugged, looking at Dean, "I know my husband is exceptionally good at this as well, but I can see that you're concealing a gun and at least two knives."

Sam glared at Dean. "What?" Dean exclaimed, "How was I supposed to know who was going to answer the door?"

Maddie laughed, "Don't worry about it! See this suit?" She gestured to her teal outfit. "My husband has one like it. They're built with a self-defense system with about twenty-one different concealed weapons and even more survival gear."

Dean looked at his little brother, gabbing a finger at Maddie's suit. "I need me one of those."

"You mentioned your husband," Sam changed the subject. "Where is he?"

"Ah, family reunion in Florida," Maddie blew a tuft of auburn bangs away from her face. "We can't afford for our kids to miss any school, what with our son's grades being the way they are, so I opted to stay home with them."

"You have kids?" Dean feigned surprise. He already knew this, but he wanted a little more information. Hunters and kids didn't mesh well, especially in this town. You could have blamed Dean's sudden interest on his soft spot for kids, but he was pinning it on curiosity. How the heck would the kids of two slightly psychotic hunters turn out?

"Yeah," Maddie answered, "Jazz and Danny. Jazz is a star-student, you know, a senior at Casper High School—" Sam covered up his laugh with a cough, "—and is well on her way to any Ivy League school she wants. She's an exceptional shot when it comes to ghost hunting, very knowledgeable." Maddie stopped there, realizing that she was rambling.

"And… Danny?"

"Ah, Danny," She shook her head. "We don't know what happened to him. One day, he's doing as well as his sister and the next…" She sighed. She was quiet for a moment before she continued, "and the next, he's either failing out of his classes or passing by a point. Detentions every day, tired, late for school, missing curfew…" She shut up then, feeling like she had said too much.

Sam's brow wrinkled, "Out of curiosity, has there been anything… _unusual _about him lately? I don't mean it in a negative way at all, just… in general, has he been, say, colder or hotter to the touch or—"

"Jack and I have considered possession but it doesn't really line up." She shook her head, "Anyway, that's not what you boys came here to hear. You came for information on the ghosts of Amity Park."

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "Se… my brother and I… we've seen ghosts before. They're nothing like the ghosts in this town." Dean gave Sam a warning glance. _Don't say too much, _he seemed to say.

Maddie grinned, gaining a certain mischievous light in her blue eyes. Not the I'm-going-to-stick-a-spoon-in-your-mouth-and-take-a-picture-while-you're-sleeping type of mischievous, but more like the I-know-something-you-don't look.

"Ah, see… That is where you're wrong."

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance. "What?" They asked in unison.

"The paranormal beings that haunt this town are not 'ghosts', by the meaning of the word. Although they are spirits of the dead, they are not 'ghosts.' It's a misnomer that everyone makes, and we've given up trying to correct them."

"What makes them not a ghost?" Sam asked, "Are they poltergeists, or demons, or…"

Maddie laughed, "_Demons?_ Hah! Where would you get that idea?"

Sam shrugged, looking more than a little embarrassed. "Oh… I dunno, I just—I mean I guessed if there were paranormal ghosts and stuff then there would be… You know what? Nevermind."

Dean mouthed the word "smooth" to his little brother.

Maddie chuckled. "No, there are no demons here." She put a finger on her chin with a deliberating look on her face. "You know what? Let me just run downstairs and grab my notes. That would give you more than enough information, I presume." She smiled before standing up and walking out of the living room, giving no sign that she wanted the boys to follow.

"Maybe they aren't as psychotic as everyone says," Sam shrugged.

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions there, Sammy." Dean stated with a smirk as he pulled out his EMF reader. Not a second passed after he turned it on that it started buzzing with activity. "These readings are off the charts," Dean muttered. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say they made this place their home-base."

"Well if there did, Maddie doesn't seem too bothered by it."

"But still, though." Dean muttered, "I've never seen them this high…"

He pressed the power button and slipped the device back into his pocket just as Maddie strolled back into the room with a number of files and papers in her hands. "Well, here we are!" She placed the research on the coffee table and sat back down in her recliner. "Now," She stated, "The first thing you should know about the Amity Park hauntings is that we are not haunted by 'ghosts,' but by beings my husband and I call 'Ectoplasmic Entities.'"

"Ecto-what?" Dean asked.

Maddie chuckled, as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. "Ectoplasm, dear. It's made of excessive amounts of condensed ecto-energy. Very powerful and _very_ hard for paranormal beings to form. Ecto-energy is the energy that sustains all supernatural creatures."

"Ah."

"As I was saying," She said with a smile, "My husband and I composed the Paranormal Classification Scale, and it is now widely used across the country as a standard in supernatural research."

"I think I might have heard of it somewhere…" Sam pondered, while Dean just looked confused.

"Let me refresh you, then," Maddie looked a little too excited to share her research. "We rate paranormal beings on a scale of one to seven, one being the least powerful and seven being the most. A class one entity would be what we call 'Light Ecto-Energy,' the word 'light' referring to how light, or devoid of power the substance is. It's just loose, undeveloped ecto-energy. Often invisible, often difficult to detect. It isn't a threat to anyone or anything.

"A class two entity is like an apparition. They are very primal and not dangerous in the slightest. They use very low amounts of ecto-energy and can deteriorate after short amounts of time, falling back into class one. Class two apparitions can come in the form of hands, lips, eyes, or the like. They sometimes move light earthly objects, like knocking paper off a desk. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah,"

"Good! So, a class three is what we call an 'Anonymous Haunting.' These beings are obviously human with an evident personality. However, these _are not _the souls of deceased humans. It is just condensed ecto-energy— although not nearly enough to become ectoplasm. If that were the case, then they would be labeled as a class seven. No, it's just enough energy to mimic the form and mannerisms of a human. These beings have means of defense, like disappearing from sight."

"So the energy's taking a life of its own?" Sam asked, slightly bewildered.

"Exactly!"

"They've given this a lot of thought," Dean muttered to Sam, who shrugged in response.

"A class four being," Maddie continued, "Is the spirit of a human being. _These _are what we can accurately call 'ghosts.' These ghosts get a lot of publicity, as they are the ghosts you would see on 'The Dead Files', or shows of the like. Still using ecto-energy, they can remember whom they were in life, move earthly objects, appear on camera, and sometimes even communicate."

"So the stereotypes," Dean stated.

"That's right. Any questions so far?"

Sam and Dean were silent, both feeling a little like they were back in school.

"Okay," She continued, "A class five entity would be a non-human being, like an animal. These entities can cause a little bit of trouble in the human world. See, they can be seen, heard, felt, or otherwise perceived as the real thing, although they cannot hold a copal form for long before their energy wears out and fades away." She paused before continuing. "Class six beings, however, are what are commonly called poltergeists."

"Entities that can take and hold a human form, movie things, knock things over, and light things on fire." Sam stated, knowing a little too well what exactly a poltergeist was.

"And can do things other people can do," Dean finished.

"People call them 'Noisy ghosts'," Maddie said with a smile.

"What about class sevens?" Dean asked. "As far as supernatural beings go, that just about covers it."

"Not quite," Maddie said. "The last group of paranormal entities is the most diverse, albeit the smallest, class. These are entities with so much ecto-energy in them, that the energy clumps together and condenses to form another substance entirely. _That _is ectoplasm. Entities with enough energy to form ectoplasm are a threat. Ectoplasm makes them powerful, giving them abilities we normally wouldn't dream of. Like flight, invisibility, and intangibility, as a standard."

"_Standard?_" Dean exclaimed.

"And that's not even taking into account abilities like forming ectoplasmic energy beams, ectoplasmic lightning, ice abilities, among others."

"Well, shit," Dean said in a low voice.

Maddie laughed. "Well, these are the beings that we deal with here in Amity Park."

Sam and Dean leaned forward in unison, prompting Maddie to continue. "They are the souls of deceased humans, whose rage, longing, want, or other negative emotions kept them bound to earth, manifesting itself in obsessions with certain objects, places, concepts, or ideas. An Ectoplasmic-Entity, as a term, can be very baud. There are varying degrees of ectoplasmic-entities based on their ectoplasm levels_. _So, we have created a sub-scale for these creatures, called the Ectoplasmic Energy scale. It ranges from one to ten, one being the least powerful and ten being the most."

"I guess that makes sense… Why do you think these entities come here?" Sam asked.

"Amity's a hot-spot for Natural portals," Maddie shrugged, although the defensive light in her eyes immediately put Dean on guard. She was lying… or at least, half-lying. But even _Dean_ could tell that she wanted to drop the subject.

"Okay," Sam stated, picking up on the same thing. "But wait… when I was reading up on Amity Park, research and all that, it mentioned some ghosts. One in particular, actually."

Maddie's gaze remained level. "Phantom." She stated, a certain fire raging behind her blue eyes.

Sam nodded and said in an equally level voice, knowing he was treading on thin ice, "You know him?"

Maddie's pupils dilated suddenly and her fists clenched. "_Know _him? Just about every hunter in the area knows him. Or knows _of _him. He's been a royal pain in the a—" She looked up at the two boys with wide eyes. "—Butt for a long time now."

"Phantom?" Dean said, looking at Sam. "You never mentioned him."

Sam waved his older brother off. "When you type 'Amity Park' into Google, articles and fan sites on some guy named 'Danny Phantom' are the first things to pop up."

Dean looked to Maddie. "Who is he, exactly? Or, who _was _he?"

Maddie's fists remained clenched and the brothers briefly wondered what sort of beef Maddie had with the ghost. "We don't know." Maddie stated. "We know he's a new ghost, couldn't have died over two, three years ago. But there were no deaths in the area at that time, no files of who this ghost may have been in life, just… Nothing." Maddie shook her head, "It's like he just hopped out of the Ghost Zone the first chance he got."

"Ghost Zone?"

"Purgatory," Maddie corrected. "We just call it the 'Ghost Zone'."

"Well, what's so bad about this ghost?" Sam asked, ever the sympathetic.

Maddie sighed, "Listen Sam, Dean. Let me make one thing crystal clear because it might just save your life. _All _ectoplasmic entities are evil. That has never changed and it never will. Their very ectoplasm was forged with negative emotions. They're _demons _in the very sense of the word." She leaned in a little, "People in this town… they don't want to believe that. They just don't understand that it's _science. _They rally behind Phantom and give him their support and they refuse to believe that they're falling right in to his trap. Phantom… He's smart. He fights the ghosts that plague this place and 'saves' the town. He'll do anything to convince the people that he's a 'good ghost'. _Anything." _She emphasized the last word, "And everyone loves him for it." She snorted in disgust at the afterthought.

"He's like some undead teen-idol or something." Dean said with a scoff.

"That's exactly how he acts," Maddie said. "But that's just it: an _act. _It's only a matter of time before he shows his true colors and takes over the town."

"Well, why don't you just take him down?" Dean asked.

"We've tried," Maddie said bitterly. "He's just too powerful. His ectoplasm cannot become destabilized, because he's self-sustaining. Somehow, no matter how much ectoplasm he looses, he has it restored by next time there's a ghost attack. We've never seen that before, in _any _ghost. Ghosts can't just exist outside of their own plane of reality for too long without their ectoplasm 'expiring' and falling apart."

"Except him," Dean speculated with a slow nod.

"Except him," Maddie confirmed.

"I still don't understand how he's too powerful to destroy." Sam stated in bewilderment.

"He rates at a level 8.6 on our scale now, and he's rapidly growing in power. In just two years, he's grown from a 7.0 to an 8.6, while most ghosts in this town rate at a 3, 4, or 5 for their entire afterlives. We've seen a solid 10 once, but Phantom took him down." She just shook her head, "So, when he decides he wants to take over the town, there's nothing we can do to stop him."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, but there was really no silent discussion to be had.

"Not if we can help it," they said in unison.

_-. - -. -. .- _ -.-. .- - -.-. ... _ . - .-. _ .- .-.. .-.._

**This was going to be longer, but I just wanted to end it here. So, the critical part that I _was _going to add on to the end here, I'm making into a whole new chapter. (It will be short, but it's crucial.) Anyway, headcanons. I have too many to count, but a big one for this story is that I don't think that Danny would let too many people take (good) pictures of him in his Phantom form. People can look at that picture, then at a picture of Danny Fenton, and just _know _that the two look too similar for it to be a coincidence. So, if you were to pull up a google images picture of Danny Phantom, you'd see a speck in the sky, a black streak across the camera lens, or an artist's depiction. That's just my spin on it, though.  
****Reviews are shamefully begged for on hands and knees,  
****~marko**


	4. They're Just Theories

**Hey, I'm back again. Here's that really short but pretty important chapter that I told you all about. Hey, look! Another headcanon! After two or three years (not that it really matters here) of ghost hunting and lying, Danny has gotten very observant, albeit somewhat paranoid. He's gotten better at lying, including half-truths and viable alibis that won't deteriorate upon further investigation. He's also gotten better at witty banter, making his overall attitude seem somewhat smart-ass-ish, depending on whom he's talking to. K, that's the one for this chapter.  
****I'm a fifteen year-old girl. I'm not old enough to drive, let alone own two television shows.**

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**_Haunted Understandings_**

**By: _markolatte_**

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It was about eight-thirty at night when the boys finally left the Fenton's abode, both carrying copies of Maddie's notes and a few ecto-weapons that she had so generously supplied. All weapons of which were safely stored in their jacket pockets or otherwise hidden from sight.

The night was dark and the moon was about half-there. The air was crisp and cold, causing the brothers' breath to fog in the air.

After saying their goodbyes to Maddie and hearing the thick wood door close in dismissal, Sam and Dean made their way to the car, which was parked next to the curb around the corner of the house.

Well, they _were _going to their car, anyway, if Sam hadn't run headlong into a dark figure who happened to be rounding the corner at the same time.

"Gah!" That someone— a kid, Dean realized— yelled as he jumped back in surprise.

Sam muttered an apology to him, as did he. The brothers would have kept moving to the Impala, but the kid's look made them stop. His features were slightly defocused due to the lack of light, but the brothers could see that his head was cocked slightly to the side and his sharp, penetrating bright eyes were profiling the brothers where they stood. He then slowly looked from them, to the Fenton's house, and back again. "So…" He began in a slightly boyish alto, "Are you guys paranormal researchers, hunters, or both?"

Dean froze. "How—"

The kid just laughed, his previous intensity almost completely melting away. "You guys just left my house carrying my mom's notes and about six ecto-guns with you. I don't hear screaming, don't smell blood, and you're not half-dead on the side of the road. It's pretty obvious."

No, Sam thought, even I know it wasn't that obvious. This kid couldn't have been more than sixteen. How was he able to do… _that? _That same profiling thing that Maddie had been able to do?

"Wait… are you Danny?" Dean asked before he could stop himself.

"Yeah," the kid, Danny, confirmed. "I'm assuming you got the whole 'detentions every day, ditching school, late for curfew' speech about me, didn't you?" There was nothing in his voice that gave way to offence. It was like he was used to this and even took some humor in it.

Dean shrugged, "You're famous, kid."

Danny just made a "Pffft" sound, obviously trying in vain to prevent himself from laughing. "_Famous_, yeah."

Dean chuckled, "Hey, you never know."

Sam, however, didn't converse with the boy. There was just something... _off_ about him. No, not _odd, _although that feeling was there, too. The _off _feeling, however, was much more prominent. It seemed like it was in the way Danny held himself. Sam squinted at him, trying to place what was wrong. His jeans were ripped to shreds, the hunter realized, and he was favoring his left leg over his right. There was an evident wince behind the laugh in Danny's voice that Sam was starting to pick up on, now that he was looking for it.

Looking a little harder, there was also something about how the boy seemed to wind his jacket around himself tightly, like how one would do in the wind. Or like how one would do if they had an injury of some sort that needed applied pressure and first aid. "Hey," Sam said, voicing his thoughts, "What happened?" He gestured to the boy's upper body and his right leg. Dean's brow wrinkled as he, too, noticed the injuries.

Danny just cringed, obviously hoping that would go unnoticed. "It's, um… Fights," He stated. "I get a lot of bullying problems at school. It's no big deal, really."

Lie, Dean thought. No way could a kid like that could get beat up that badly. Even in the dim streetlights, Dean could see the muscles under the boy's thin jacket. That, paired with the fact that he was almost exactly the same height as Dean himself, made him an unlikely target for any bully. Based on his agile body-build alone, he seemed like he could easily be the head soccer star or football quarterback. Like _he _could be the one doing the bullying, not receiving it.

"…_Yeah_, kid. Right." Dean finally spoke.

Danny just shrugged, like he somewhat expected them to not believe him. "It's true. Ask around, it's a small town." He paused for a second. "Hey… what did my mom tell you guys, exactly? Ghost-wise."

"Not that it's any of your business, kid," Dean stated with an air of finality.

Danny held up his hands, "Hey, I'm the son of two ghost hunters. This kind of stuff interests me. I'm just curious."

_Another lie. _And both Winchesters knew it.

"Well, if you're Maddie's son, then you should already know what she told us then, right?" Sam said with a raised eyebrow.

"…. I guess," Danny said after a moment with a slight shrug. His shoulders hunched forward slightly, though. Like he knew _exactly_ what Maddie said and he didn't like it.

"Anyway," He continued, "I should probably get inside…" He reached up and put a hand on the back of his neck and just stood there for a moment, the air around them getting slightly awkward. It was then that Sam and Dean realized that they were exactly in his way. Sam muttered another apology and moved Dean and himself to the side so he could pass. He did.

"Oh," Danny said from behind them, drawing the attention of the two brothers. "Just make sure you remember that everything my parents know about the paranormal is just a theory. Their scale is pretty accurate, but everything else… It's about as much of a theory as anything else in science."

"Why are you telling us this?" Dean asked with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Because theories can be wrong," Danny said.

"Have a good night," Sam waved and Danny responded with a two-finger salute.

"You too, uhmm…"

"Sam and Dean," Sam stated, only now having realized that they had yet to give the kid their names.

"Sam and Dean," Danny confirmed. He had just put a hand on the door handle of the house when he stopped. "Just make sure you watch yourselves." His tone held a degree of humor that Sam and Dean didn't quite understand. "This town's weird as shit." He then opened the door and entered the house.

"Got it, kid." Dean muttered, eyebrows wrinkling. He turned to Sam, "That was weird."

Sam shrugged, "Well, you _did _want to know."

"What did I want to know?"

"How the kid of two ghost hunters would turn out." He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the Fenton's door. "There's your answer."

And Dean didn't know whether he liked that answer.

_.. _ . -. .- - -.- _ . .- - .. -. -. _ ... - ..- .-.. ..._

**I _really _hope that didn't sound too forced. I know it might have. Gr. Oh well. If I had an option then I wouldn't have included this, but the plot that I have planned out for this story required this interaction in order for events that would happen later to make sense. I was also in a hurry to get this updated because school starts up again Tuesday and I might not update this for a bit.  
Reviews are desperately bartered for,  
~marko **


	5. Science Doesn't Lie

**Okay, so I discovered a plot hole in my "scientific connection" between Supernatural and Danny Phantom. It's ectoplasm *facepalm*. Apparently Sam and Dean ****_have _****seen it before (I just watched that episode… I'm still catching up). So, here's what were going to do. This takes place at about mid-to-early season one, but Sam and Dean have ****_never _****seen the stuff before. When they mention in season two that they ****_have _****seen it, _this_ is when they did. And the difference between green ectoplasm and black ectoplasm is that green ectoplasm is "****_fresh", _****I guess. It's fresh out of purgatory (The Ghost Zone) and charged with ecto-energy. Black ectoplasm means that it has been on Earth for a ****_long _****time, making it lose its ectoplasmic qualities (i.e. flight, intangibility, invisibility, ect) and turn black... Then after that, it fades away. Since Amity has so many ghost portals, ghosts can pretty much cross dimensions when they please. Make sense? Great.  
****Thank you, for reading my loooong note.  
****And without further ado, I present to you:**

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_**Haunted Understandings**_

**By: _markolatte_**

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It was dark when Sam opened his eyes. The smell of iron, salt, and some undetermined scent that smelled strangely of old stale blood and mildew hung thickly in the air. It almost made Sam choke.

Where was he? Sam gazed around at his surroundings. He was in an empty room of an abandoned warehouse of some sort. It was nighttime, as far as he could tell. The dimly lit fluorescent lights flickered ominously overhead as Sam searched for some sign of familiarity, his fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

He didn't see anything other than a few rows of abused boxes. He settled on following the repulsive scent that seemed to emit from a large pair of steel double-doors on the other side of the room. With a little hesitation, he made his way over to them and attempted to push them open. To his great surprise, Sam found that he couldn't. Instead, his arms went _through _the door as if it weren't there.

Sam's eyes widened in shock and horror. _What the hell is going on? _The thought had barely registered with him when a high, pained scream resounded through the metal doors and echoed through the room he was standing in.

Suddenly on high alert, Sam pushed his immediate horror and revulsion aside and stepped through the doors, somewhat shocked that he had managed to step fully _through_ the closed doors without touching them.

But what lie on the other side of said doors put Sam's odd feat to shame.

The room he had stepped into was much larger than the one Sam had originally found himself in. This one had to have been the size of at least two football fields. The ceilings were high, dark, and foreboding, with shadowy, flickering lights hanging overhead.

But that's not what had Sam gaping in horror. Sitting there, smack-dab in the middle of the large room, was a man strapped to a chair.

As Sam stepped closer, he realized that the man wasn't, in fact, a man. _It was a kid. _He couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen years old. His head was bowed, giving Sam an excellent view of the kid's ratty, dirty white hair. He could tell it was white, although it looked more like a grey color with the lighting and the dirt.

He was strapped to the chair with metal restraints. Even from where he was standing, Sam could see that the restrains were burning away at the kid's wrists and ankles. His shoulders were steadily moving up and down with his every labored breath he took. His black outfit was torn in many places and there were several bullet holes in his chest. There were scrapes running along the length of his arms and torso.

He was bleeding a sort of… _green _liquid. It looked thick enough to be blood, but it clearly wasn't. It was glowing a bright green color, with red flecks floating within the liquid's depths. There was no way that substance was human.

Whatever this kid was, he wasn't human.

But he was still a kid.

"Hey," Sam said before he could stop himself, taking a step towards him.

Something crunched under his boot and Sam turned his attention to it. It was salt. Paying a little more attention, Sam saw that there was a ring of it, surrounding the kid. A salt ring. Meant to keep paranormal beings out… or keep them in.

"Hey, kid," Sam spoke a little louder, bypassing the barrier. He couldn't help it - this was a _kid. _The kid gave no sign that he heard him. "Hey, kid," said Sam, his tone a little louder, "Can you hear me—?"

"You're trying my patience, _demon_," Came another voice. Sam couldn't believe it. He whipped around to face the source of the voice. It was Dean. He was holding a flask of what Sam immediately recognized as Holy Water. "Do you know what this is, demon?" The kid, yet again, didn't respond. "Do you know what it _does _to creatures like you?"

"It _looks_ like a flask." The kid stated in a hoarse, strained voice. "But I'm guessing that you're referring to what's _in _it."

"Dean," Sam started, drawing away from the kid and closer to his brother. "Stop this. You're hurting him."

But his brother continued, as if Sam wasn't even there.

"It's Holy Water and it burns. _Like hell. _Then, it'll send you back to what ever hole you crawled out of."

The kid spat a wad of that same bright green… _stuff_ out of his mouth. "Bite me." He then bit out a weak, quiet laugh. "I've crawled out of many a hole, by the way. Which were you referring to?" The attempt at banter was rather pathetic, in Sam's mind.

There was a sharp but brief laugh from somewhere in the shadows. Sam's eye's widened as a new flavor of horror was added to this disturbing mix. The laugh was his. Sam's own laugh. Before Sam could even fathom what was going on, Dean shot Sam— _the other Sam, _the one who laughed—a glare. "It's not funny," He said with a perfectly straight face.

"No, no, of course not."

Dean turned back to the kid. "Too bad," he said. "Maybe, if you had cooperated, we would have let you go."

Still not looking at him, keeping his head bowed and his features obscured by his dirty, stained hair, the boy seemed to perk up slightly. "Seriously?"

Dean just laughed bitterly. "No." And with that, he stepped into the salt ring and proceeded to pour the contents of the flask onto boy's head, before the kid could even so much as move.

No sooner that Dean did, the kid gasped, and although Sam couldn't see it, he could tell the kid's mouth had opened in a silent scream.

Sam's eyes widened as he saw what happened. The water burned away at the kid's skin like acid, scorching him like holy fire. The strange green substance—which Sam had come to accept as the kid's blood— poured from the burns and began to lose its odd, unearthly glow and it began to grow darker and darker, almost changing color completely.

That's when the kid screamed.

The scream was echoing, hollow, and just _loud. _It blew away the salt ring and caused the hunters to cover their ears and brace their legs as tremors of green energy poured from the kid's mouth and pulsed throughout the warehouse, scattering boxes and shelves, sending them flying.

The vibrations from the kid were so powerful, that the building itself began to shake and groan in stress, like it would cave in at any minute. The hunters themselves were sent flying as well, landing painfully against the far wall.

The screaming seemed to last for hours, but what was probably only seconds, before his screaming faltered and the boy went completely limp, his shoulders no longer moving and his dim, unearthly glow was beginning to fade.

The image then went black.

_.. _ ... .- - . _ - -. . _ -.. .. .-. . -.-. - .. - -._

Sam shot upright with a gasp. He was drenched in sweat as he frantically looked around. He was in the motel room, laying on one of its uncomfortable beds. _Phew, _he thought, _it was just one of those weird dreams. _That's what it was, right? Just a dream. That's all.

Dean, who had been typing away on the their laptop, shot Sam a slightly concerned glance. "Jessica again?" He asked.

"Yeah," Sam responded with a sigh. "It was Jessica."

Dean nodded in understanding and dropped the subject.

"So," he began, "Since you needed to rest your little baby eyes, I decided to look in to this 'Danny Phantom' character a little more."

Sam cocked an eyebrow, getting up from the bed and walking over to his brother. "What did you find?"

"Couldn't get any good pictures of him," Dean started, pulling up Google Images and angling the computer so Sam could see the screen. "All that came up were these black… _blurs_, like the camera couldn't focus on him."

Sam's brow crinkled as Dean scrolled down, gazing at the various pictures of black specks or streaks, high in the sky. It was odd, though. The scene in the picture could be completely in-focus, shattered buildings, as in the case of a particularly large image that caught Sam's eye.

It was dusk in the picture. Buildings were broken and caving in on themselves, craters littered the streets, and streetlights were shattered. Two objects were floating up in the air, one was that same metallic ghost that Sam and Dean had seen on the news just before coming here and the other was what Sam guessed was Phantom. The metallic one, Skulker, Sam recalled his name being, was in sharp focus while "Phantom" appeared to just be a black blur.

"That's… different," Sam remarked.

Dean nodded in agreement, angling the computer back to him and switching tabs. "But other than that, turns out Maddie's right. Phantom's winning the town over like an undead superhero." Dean turned the screen around so his brother could see the article he had pulled up. "But he slips up. According to this, he's caused nearly one and a half million dollars in property damage and vandalism, stolen the city's prized jewels, and even _kidnapped the mayor._"

Sam blinked.

"That's what I did," Dean gestured at his brother's shocked expression. "But it's only a matter of time before he _really _slips up and adds a new ghost to purgatory."

"Wait," Sam said as he read over the article. "It says here that, at least with the stealing, that some guy named Frederic Isaac Showenhower was caught with all the jewels."

"What's your point?"

"I'm just saying that if this ghost is really trying to win the town over, he wouldn't have just _gotten caught _steeling. Didn't Maddie say that ectoplasm could make ghosts turn invisible and intangible?"

Dean nodded slowly.

"Well, what if he wasn't the one that did the stealing? Maybe he was being—"

"What, controlled? By this Frederic dude?"

Sam waved a quick finger at his brother. "Exactly."

Dean sighed. "Look Sam, you can defend Phantom all you want. But that doesn't change the fact that he's an evil paranormal being... and that's what we hunt. The Fentons are scientists. They're the best this town has. There's _science_ about why ectoplasmic beings are evil, and science doesn't lie. It's simple."

"But aren't they all just theories?" Sam asked, recalling what Danny Fenton said no too long ago.

Dean huffed, looking a little annoyed, "I looked into everything Maddie told us. Nothing she said has been wrong so far. This isn't any different."

Sam sighed. "So we're really going to hunt this thing, huh?"

Dean smirked, "hell yeah."

_.. _ ... .- - . _ - -. . _ -.. .. .-. . -.-. - .. - -._

***They don't know what ectoplasm actually looks like. They know what Maddie told them, which is all factual, not visual.  
****There you have it! Hope this wasn't rushed. Hope people were in-character (I find Sam and Dean _very _hard to write, seeing as though I'm relatively new to this fandom). I'm also not the best with 3****rd**** person angst or angst in general. Don't have much experience with it…  
****Hope it wasn't too short, I just needed to get this story moving. My headcanon for holy water is pretty easy to figure out… hopefully.  
****Anyway, reviews are haggled and begged for,  
****~marko  
****P.S. Thanks to _RandomCitizen_ for the idea/new headcanon about Danny and pictures. I was originally going with "Oh, he's just moving too fast for me to get a good shot, damn it." but being like Superman and "vibrating" too fast for the cameras to get a clear picture of him is about a billion times better! So, thank _you, _RandomCitizen! *points dramatically in whatever direction you're in*. **


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